


The Raw, Real Truth

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Aziraphale needs to be forgiven, BDSM, Dominatrix Crowley, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Whipping, submissive Aziraphale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 08:29:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20005327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "Are you ready, angel?"





	The Raw, Real Truth

Aziraphale’s arms were suspended in the air with rope, feet planted on the ground. Crowley prowled around him, ready to strike.

"Are you ready, angel?"

Crowley had a special room in his apartment for this. He had racks of toys lining each wall, and the room is soundproof. Aziraphale had been here so many times before, had knelt on his knees for Crowley just the day before, as he was collared and gagged. (But nothing, of course, could every truly silence his whimpers.)

Now, he hung from the ceiling to accept his penance. for running away from Crowley, for saying all those rude things in the past, and denying himself what he deserved: love.

“I’m ready.”

CRACK!

Sweat trickled down his forehead, as, one by one, the whip cracked against his skin. It stung, but with each lash, Aziraphale took deep, shuddering breaths. He accepted the pain for what it was, just as Crowley accepted _who_ he was.

Aziraphale's shoulders felt like they were on fire. Ten, fifteen, thirty, perhaps sixty minutes he had been hanging there. But Crowley kept going and going. Until eventually, he stopped. 

Crowley stepped in front of him, sharp black heels standing in the curled tail of the whip. He reached up his hand to caress Aziraphale's face, looked deep into his eyes, and said, "Can you forgive yourself now?"

Aziraphale gasped and tried to still his wobbling chin, but a cascade of tears were now falling down his cheeks. "Yes."

The air between them disappeared as Crowley leaned forward, pressing his lips to Aziraphale's. The kiss was like finding an oasis in the desert: a blessing.

But then, he dropped the whip and stepped away. Aziraphale didn't know where or why, but Crowley reassured him with a steady glance. Without saying anything, he walked to the corner of the room and uncloaked a mirror, showing Aziraphale's flushed, taut body. Aziraphale watched Crowley in the mirror as he moved to an opposite corner to bare another. It was then that Aziraphale gasped. His back...

Not a scar, not a drop of blood.

Nothing at all.

"You don't need to hurt yourself to earn forgiveness," Crowley explained, as he sauntered towards Aziraphale again.

The clicks of his heels resonated with the pounding of Aziraphale's heart.

"You just need to look at yourself and see. See what I see." He stepped beside Aziraphale and together, they looked into the mirror. "A beautiful angel."

"Is that really all it takes?" Aziraphale whispered, "To earn forgiveness."

Crowley stared back at his own reflection. "That's all it took for me."

"Hold steady now." With a snap, Crowley released the ropes, sending Aziraphale's arms down to his sides. The angel swayed as the air suddenly thinned, and slowly, he was lowered toward the ground. "Deep breaths, angel. I've got you."

Crowley scooped his arms underneath Aziraphale's body and carried him to bed. He was a strong demon: powerful. Not once did he stumble in his heels, a steady gate all the way. Aziraphale was muttering, now, under his breath. _I love you. Thank you. I'm yours._ And this- if Crowley could have this for the rest of his life- a beautiful angel in his arms who could accept him for who he was- then Crowley could damn well promise that he would never let Aziraphale fall.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys like it! Fingers crossed for a part two, except it'll be Crowley's turn for forgiveness next.


End file.
